


Dualscar ==> Get Wrecked

by twii2ted_8333335



Series: Tumblr Request Fics [10]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Boys Kissing, Bulges and Nooks, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Dirty Talk, Dual Bulges, Horn Stimulation, Kissing, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nook Eating, Psionic Bondage, Psionics, Troll Gills, Xeno, Xenobiology, earfins, sort of, tiddy fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:56:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4558518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twii2ted_8333335/pseuds/twii2ted_8333335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Anonymous said:<br/>Nsfw writing req: dualsol ♠️</p>
</blockquote><br/><i>Ha</i><br/><i>Hahaha</i><br/><i>Oh gosh what did I just write</i><p>You stroke his cheek, quietly smiling. If he wants to take a few hateful frustrations out on you then by all means, let the wriggler develop. What's the worst that could happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dualscar ==> Get Wrecked

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry  
> For anything XD

He has infinitely stronger psiioniics than you would have expected. They brought you to your knees in your underestimating, though you do suspect focusing on your horns had much to do with that falling. 

He's smaller than you expected too; he's still practically a wriggler in comparison to you, only 6 sweeps old. He acts like he's as tall and strong as his ancestor though, holding his head high and still not quite level with yours even though you stayed on your knees for him. You're almost positive the spades in his eyes aren't directed at you, but at your little descendant, the one he likely associates you with. You've met the little grub before. He speaks about you like a God, a legend, a worthwhile troll. You wonder how many stories this Captor has had to endure. You wonder if maybe he has developed something a hate crush on you. 

You stroke his cheek, quietly smiling. If he wants to take a few hateful frustrations out on you then by all means, let the wriggler develop. What's the worst that could happen? 

Likely sensing your acceptance of the situation, or maybe just realizing that if you haven't killed him now you won't be doing so anytime soon, he pulls you forward with his psiioniics, lips crashing against yours. It's a mess, you'll admit, but he's eager. You subtlely guide him so your noses aren't quite so smashed together and his teeth aren't digging so hard into your lips. He tries to push his tongue into your mouth, and you let him the second time around, but he retreats like he's not really sure what to do with himself after that. Smart wriggler, knowing when not to make a fool of himself. 

He's panting when he parts, lips shining and hands on your shoulders. You never felt him move them. 

"I'm going to fucking wreck you," he says, breathless still, and God, you almost bust a gut laughing. He's just too much, this young troll. You wish you could keep him around more often. 

He growls in response to you, psiioniics crackling and popping around his horns. You feel him tug you again, this time down to his level and you can see the fiery rage in his dead eyes. He grabs the base of your horn with one hand, tightly. Your laughing effectively dies off. "I'm theriouth, athhole, I'm going to wreck you right here, right now, on thith fucking floor. I'm gonna make you thcream for me." He's trembling, you notice, either from nerves or excitement or some combination. You really have to give him props for trying to keep the hatred flowing, even if you want to pat his head and send him off at this point. The mood is a little more than ruined from your outburst but your bulge is still somewhat interested. You'll give him another shot.

"Try it, Captor." 

He kisses you again, hard sloppy presses of his lips, and he keeps you in place with his psiioniics. Your horns are actually starting to feel a little sensitive from all the stimulus they're getting. His hands free of holding you now, he runs his fingers through your hair, sweeps down the back of your head and curls his path back to your fins. His fingertips run along the curve, rubbing the tines, and you shift where you sit. You manage to stifle any urge to make a noise until his grubby paws brushes your neck gill. You croon wordlessly against his lips, and when he does it again, on purpose this time, with a careful graze of his claw, your body shudders. He pulls away again, gauging your reactions, studying your face as he teases both sides of your neck now. 

"Jethuth, you're almotht making it eathy for me," he laughs airily, thumb dipping into the slit of your gill. Your hips convulse and you almost push him away, the amount of pleasure you feel is that intense. He's rubbing the edge of your skin though, applying pressure to one of your most sensitive organs. It's leaving you limp and breathless and God, you have a moment where you almost regret having gotten yourself into this situation. 

Mercifully, he moves on from your gills. You wonder if he thinks he's teasing you more like this, finding out what makes you squirm, exploiting it and then moving on is more effective. You wonder if he knows it's working. 

His fingers tease your revealed scars and your nipples briefly through your clothes, though he doesn't seem quite as impressed with the reactions he gains there. Your first flare up of hate fills you at the thought of your body not being good enough for his taste. Lowblooded trash wouldn't know what a good troll body looked like if it was staring him in the face — which it is. If he thinks he can get away with just favoring your seadweller parts, he's got another thing coming. 

His hands, still on your chest, push lightly and he eases you onto your back. His psiioniics return the moment you're settled, and your body shudders again at the spiking pleasure they course through your horns. He removes your clothing piece by piece, sometimes ripping parts of the fabrics when he can't figure out how to get it off without moving you. The process goes on until you're bare to him. You don't look at him when he smirks up at you, pleased to see that your bulge is mostly unsheathed and your nook is fairly eager as well. He trails a finger along the lips, clawtip just barely hooking against your entrance, enough to feel, and you groan, long and loud and actually wanton.

He laughs again, more confident this time, "Wow. You thenthitive down here?" You growl in response, glaring at him. "What, you never touch yourthelf or thomething?" You're quiet this time and now it's his turn to burst into laughter. 

(For the record, you've touched yourself plenty of times. You just focused more on your bulge. You never had much success with your nook, even the one time you tried something so debauched as self fucking. Like hell are you going to tell him that though.) 

"Oh God, thith ith gonna be tho fun." He moves you again, onto your hands and knees, his psiioniics keeping your cheek pressed against the floor. His hands touch your thighs and spread your legs. You're glad he can't see your face heat up as your nook is exposed to him or the face you make when his fingers go back to teasing you, moving up and down and up and down and he presses his thumb to your entrance but doesn't push in. Embarrassingly enough, you press your hips back, trying to urge him to go farther. He rewards you by pulling away completely and tsking. "I've got planth for you, don't worry, eager little fithh." 

You hear him move and try to look back at him but his powers have you firmly in place. 

"I told you, I wath gonna wreck you. And I mean it." 

Your second flare up of hate hits you as his tongue drags over your nook and you find yourself turning into putty. Your muscles relax as he resumes his up and down motions. Your keening moans ring in your ears, pathetic and as disgusting as the sounds Captor is making as he licks and sucks at your nook. Your bulge is lashing against your stomach, neglected and aching. 

When he presses his bifurcated inside you, you come. Your nook convulses and clamps on his tongue and your bulge goes stiff as it releases its material and the intensity and unfamiliarity of it all has you shaking. You don't even know if you made a noise, you're so far out of it. He doesn't pull away, doesn't stop thrusting his stupid lowblooded tongue in you until you're fully down from your high and pitifully whining from hyper sensitivity. He lets you rest a moment which you're grateful for. You need to compose yourself, save what little face you have now that he's seen you as a writhing mess of a troll. 

"Man, I thought _I_ wath thuppothed to be the wriggler here." 

"Shut up, brat," you grunt at him, rolling over now that you seem to finished. 

Of course, there is that saying about assumptions. Captor's descendant crawls on top of you now that you're on your back, resting himself on your midsection. His pants are discarded, bulges out and twining around each other. You think he's going to tell you to open your mouth, but he doesn't. He pushes his bulges onto your chest and squeezes your pecs together. You've got just enough muscle for his bulges to feel pressure. He thrusts into the little cavity he's made, yellow material dripping down your chest and up to your neck. It's disgusting and the only worthwhile part is that you've got a perfect view of his face, biting his lower lip and breathing heavily through his nose. He's not going to last much longer than you did. 

He smirks down at you suddenly and there's a beat where your eyes meet before pleasure erupts in your nook again. You barely contain your convulsions this time around, trying not to knock him off your body. His psiioniics intensify briefly in the panic and make you groan as the pleasure increases. He chuckles at you, returning to his own stimulation as you enjoy yours. It's a tease, having his powers try to imitate his tongue, having the crackles and faux touches after something so real but it does the trick for you. You end up having a second orgasm as he has his first, material coating your skin, getting on your chin and lips and you think it's even as high up as your cheeks. You're panting and shivering and you don't even notice when he gets off you. 

"Told you tho," he murmurs what feels like sweeps later when he's using his psiioniics to clean the material off your body, obviously too tuckered out to move from beside you. 

"Consider myself wrecked, boy."

**Author's Note:**

> Except for that one part  
> You know which one  
> Im sorry about that


End file.
